


At the pond

by purple_ramblings



Series: collection of random thingamabobs [1]
Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Picnic, Swimming, prompt, sid being sid, sullivan being sullivan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_ramblings/pseuds/purple_ramblings
Summary: prompt by @sidneycarter on tumblr:  🌊  …going swimming
Relationships: Sid Carter/Inspector Sullivan
Series: collection of random thingamabobs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864804
Kudos: 32





	At the pond

There was a pinch between Sullivan’s eyebrows as the droplets of water splattered around, flung into his surroundings by none other than Sidney Carter himself - shaking his head like a dog after just getting out of the water.

“Water’s not too cold,” Sidney mentioned casually, wiping his face first with his hand and then with one of the towels Sullivan had laid out, once perfectly folded but returning to the picnic blanket in a damp heap. The pinch deepened.

“Should give it a try,” Sidney went on, dropping himself to lie on a half free patch of the blanket. Maybe three quarters free was more accurate but it did feel like he was suddenly taking up more space than he might have been in reality, his head now resting on Sullivan’s lower thigh, wet hair quickly soaking through the fabric of his trousers. It did feel hotter than hell, an unusually warm summer day for England and Gloucestershire, but that didn’t mean that Sullivan was going to abandon all propriety and docorum, like Sidney had.

“Why, when you insist on bringing half the pond back with you?” Sullivan retorted finally and Sidney grinned up at him, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. He, Sullivan, had half a mind to swat at him with the book he had been attempting to read. Not that he had gotten far, interrupted every half sentence by Sid rediscovering the attention-seeking ways of a five-year-old boy, flailing around the water and calling out for Sullivan to watch him do so.

“How upset would you be if I threw you in?” Sidney asked slyly.

“Bottom drawer,” was all that Sullivan said and Sidney pouted. The Bottom Drawer (tm) was Sullivan’s only means of defense, or at least it felt like that sometimes. Sid did have the ability to take things seriously, quite seriously even, but he often chose not to. The contents of The Bottom Drawer in Sullivan’s home desk, not his work desk because that would have been too risky which would have defeated the entire purpose of playing with the fire, were a collection of vague incidents/happenings/occurrences that, if Sullivan had given any attention to them - and he really, really didn’t - would have led to charges. But if those vague incidents/happenings/occurences didn’t turn up any leads (at 0.231 of a first glance) and thus remained unsolved, well, that was just how life was. But it was a good bargaining tool to keep Sidney a little more in line, sometimes. Only Sullivan was quite sure that Sidney knew exactly that he’d rather burn down the entire cottage than take out even one of the pages from The Bottom Drawer.

“You ruin all my fun,” Sidney complained but didn’t mention it again. Instead he did something that was quite a rare occurrence for him - he remained completely quiet and still for a good half hour, eyes drooping sleepily more and more as the sun warmed him back up and Sullivan finally got further than half a sentence.

The serene moment was, of course, ruined by the ferocious growling of Sid’s stomach a while later. His eyes shot open and both men stared at each other, baffled, for a moment then they both broke out into laughter.

“Better feed the sea monster,” Sullivan smiled and marked his place in his book. Sidney sat up and crawled over to the picnic basket on his knees, ravaging through the contents with various noises of approval and delight. He was already chewing with both cheeks puffing out when he finally started unpacking the various containers that Sullivan had painstakingly stocked in the morning. Sullivan just sighed, he knew by now saying anything was fruitless and only only result in Sid stuffing more food in his mouth, likely spewing it everywhere as he tried to say something back. So he said nothing, only went about neatly arranging the containers and the plates and the cutlery that he had packed.

“Best summer day ever,” Sidney groaned contently when every morsel and crumb had been ravished, flopping down again and spreading his long limbs.

“If you get sunburnt, I’ll-”

Sid cracked one eye open. “You’ll what?”


End file.
